The Camera's Flash
by PuppetMaster55
Summary: A picture tells a thousand words. Sam's old camera was the perfect medium to fill her scrapbook with. Well, that and she wanted a photo of Danny in the hazmat suit his parents had made specifically for him.


Click. Flash. Whir.

Sam smiled as a new picture slid out of her vintage camera.

"Sam!" Danny rubbed at his eyes, blinking back glowing yellow-red-purple spots that shined bright each time he blinked. Tucker, meanwhile, was waving his hand in the air, and Sam snorted in laughter as he tried to swipe them away.

"Hey, the camera's flash can't be turned off. Besides," She leaned back against the kitchen counter, waving the developing picture in one hand. At the table, Danny and Tucker leaned against it from where they were seated. "I like the flash. Gives everything this really cool overexposed look."

"You don't care that it's blinding?" Danny rubbed at his eyes. "Jeez woman, did you pick out that exact camera _just_ to blind everyone who annoys you?"

Click. Flash. Whir.

"Gah!" Danny went down a second time.

"Works on you."

"Now that's just mean," Tucker commented, arm curled protectively over his eyes. "Besides, how can he show us his ghost portal if nobody but you can see it?"

"Curses, you've figured out my dastardly plan!" Sam fake-swooned, a smile on her face as she pulled out the new photo. "Besides, you'll be fine. I only brought this because Danny's gonna be wearing one of his parents' dorky jumpsuits. Can you say 'blackmail'?"

* * *

The FentonWorks lab was usually off-limits to anyone that wasn't the adult Fentons or Uncle Frank (who wasn't always the same person, but neither Danny nor Jazz really cared, as that had been the norm since before they could remember), but with the failure of the proclaimed Ghost Portal – of which everyone had noted a distinct _lack_ of Fenton tacked onto the end, and which had been explained as having been because it was more of a personal project than one that would go on for sale.

"It's a hole in the wall." Sam rolled her eyes; sometimes Tucker had no imagination. She raised the camera, seeing the shot through the viewfinder.

Click. Flash. Whir.

"Look, we're not supposed to be down here anyway." Both friends turned to see Danny, shirtless with a white jumpsuit half-pulled on. Both feet were covered in black boots, with equally black gloves waiting in the opened locker that had his name on it. "Just put on the guest suits before my parents get back from the store. I don't want to be grounded."

The suit was zipped up, and Tucker turned away as Sam put on her jumpsuit (a soft purple, while Tucker's was a dull green). Danny, however, did not turn away, and Sam had to forcibly turn him away so she could change in relative privacy.

"I don't get what you're so upset about," Danny had said, confused. "It's just like a bathing suit."

Sam had smacked him on the arm for that, before yanking the Jack Fenton sticker off of his jumpsuit ("I think Jazz put that there as revenge for stealing bearbert" had been Danny's defense, but refused to elaborate on the identity of 'bearbert') and shoving him towards the portal. "Go stand in the doorway, dork. I want a picture of you in that get-up while I still can."

"But not us, right?" Tucker waved his hand, gesturing to both himself and Sam, and she made a noncommittal noise.

Click. Flash. Scream.

_Wait._

There was an explosion of light as Danny tripped backwards from the flash, tripping over loose wiring or something and slamming his entire body against the ghost portal. A crackling sound of lightning followed by a boom that stole away all sound and left Sam and Tucker clutching their heads to try and stop the dizzying ringing that echoed through their heads.

Through all the smoke and screaming, blue and orange jumpsuits appeared, pulling Sam and Tucker away from the burning portal, and through the ringing and muted silence, Sam thought she heard Tucker yelling something about Danny. She was then pushed off into the arms of Mr. Fenton while Dr. Fenton ran back into the smoke.

Laying amidst the rubble, forgotten, was a still-developing photograph. In it was a photonegative of Danny, with white hair, green eyes, the jumpsuit's colors inverted. And his skin was blackened, charred and melting as his face was trapped in the beginnings of a scream.


End file.
